Piccole Risa
by Boomer Gonzales
Summary: After an otherwise typical mission, Henrietta adopts a newly orphaned baby. The lives of the girls will never be the same as drama and hillarity ensues.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This fan fiction was inspired by Sintendo's _The Lighter Side_. It takes place between the fourth and fifth volumes of the _Gunslinger Girl_ manga. Due to the fact that I know next to nothing about Beatrice and her handler Bernardo; they will receive a few mentions, but little to no exposure.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights; property, intellectual, financial, distribution, etc., to _Gunslinger Girl_. All rights therein are the possession of Yu Aida, Media Works Inc., and Funimation Entertainment. The above mentioned intellectual property is being used without permission.

**I**

A looming apartment building stood in the middle of a barren street. Much like the other buildings within the slums of Rome, this building was old and in severe disrepair. Across from this building, Rico and Jean took their positions.

"Rico-Jean team, checking in," Jean said into his mini-com. "All teams report when you arrive at your positions."

After a few minutes they responded one after the other.

"Triela-Hillshire team; in position."

"Henrietta-José team; in position."

"Angelica-Marco team; in position."

"Beatrice-Bernardo team; in position."

"All teams wait for my signal," Jean ordered.

"Roger," the handlers responded in unison.

"Rico, target the first perp you see," Jean told his ward.

"Yes, Jean," Rico answered in monotone.

A short time passed as Rico scanned the windows looking for something to shoot. Something that would start this mission as planned. Jean watched the building through his monocular, looking for any sign of a tactical response. Passing by a window, something caught his eye. Jean jerked his hand just in time to see a ball rolling across the floor. Not a moment after a child ran after the ball.

"JEAN!" Marco nearly screamed into his com.

"Marco, that outburst will go down in my report," Jean responded into his own.

"Hold your fire, we have civilians. I repeat; civilians have been spotted between us and the targets."

Jean waited a moment before answering, "They could be there as decoys or sleepers. Hollow the building out, no survivors. Do all teams copy?"

"Copy," they said one after the other with the exception of Marco.

"Damn it," Marco finally said quietly.

**

* * *

**

Covering his mouthpiece, José leaned down toward Henrietta.

"'Etta, put away your P90. Sidearm only, women and children are to be fired upon only _when_ fired upon; understand?"

"Yes; José," Henrietta answered setting her P90 on the floor. Taking out her P239, she flicked the safety, and held it ready.

On another floor, Hillshire did the same.

"Do you have shot in that gun?" Hillshire whispered to Triela.

"Loading slugs now; Hillshire," Triela answered cocking the old Winchester seven times in succession.

'That's my girl,' Hillshire thought watching her take the rounds out of the belt across her chest and load them.

**

* * *

**

Within the building, a couple share a moment; unknowing that it'll be their last.

A large, brown haired man holding an AK-74 without a stock walked over to a woman nursing a baby. Propping his gun against the wall, he sat down beside her.

"How is little Celia, my dearest," he said; his eyes intent on the bundle in her arms.

"She's asleep now Ignazio," she replied. "She has a healthy appetite, just like her father."

"That just means she's going to be big and strong like me."

The gaze she gave him only affirmed her disapproval at the remark. Quickly he added, "But she will be as beautiful as my Capricia."

Smiling softly, she returned her attention to the child in her arms.

"I know that will be true, but sometimes I hope it to not be so," Capricia said quietly.

"Why would you say such a thing?!" Ignazio boomed.

The baby whined soliciting a just response from Capricia, "Quiet, you'll wake her."

Cooing the baby back to sleep, Capricia gave Ignazio hard glances between breaths. Ignazio, knowing the full extent of Capricia's temper, stilled all noise.

"Humph," Capricia shrugged. "I hope she isn't as _lively_ as you are."

"Sorry, dearest."

"Weel, I only say such things because you are probably right. She will be tall and strong like you; but if she takes my looks, God willing, she'll be even more beautiful than I. I will have a hard time keeping these vagrants away from her."

"Don't you mean '_We_ will have a hard time'?" Ignazio said brushing a red strand of hair from Capricia's face.

Capricia smiled at Ignazio's interest in the possibility of them together. When Ignazio rested his head against her shoulder, Capricia closed her eyes to daydream of a future; a quiet one where the smell of gunpowder was replaced by that of fresh flour and the sights of the various hideouts replaced by a constant one. A solitary house in the countryside, where Celia would play with and often tease a younger sibling; a boy or girl, it didn't matter. Capricia dreamed of a promising future, where they could finally be, a real family. A call from the door interrupted her little daydream.

"Ignazio," said the voice's owner.

"Hey Franco, how's Franca?" Capricia said.

"Still…still in a coma; come Ignazio we have to go."

"Why so soon, Franco?" Ignazio asked.

"I have reason to believe that SISDE has discovered our location. We have to move Christiano, now."

"Already?" Capricia muttered.

"I understand. Will you be alright my love?"

"Yes, of course," Capricia answered. "I still have that gun you gave me," she said. Moving a blanket, she revealed a MP5K.

"Good, remember to keep the safety off," Ignazio said.

"I remember, now go and take care of Christiano. We owe him more than our own lives."

Looking back at her baby, she scooted back to the wall and rested.

Exiting the room, Franco tapped Ignazio on the shoulder.

"Ignazio, what does she mean?"

"Christiano helped us a while back. Well, her mostly. One day, he came upon us as guards to a Five Republics meeting. Capricia was already getting big and well, you know how money is around here. He spoke to us privately and gave us the contents of his wallet and wrote down the number of a private doctor he knew personally. Since then, he gave us money until he was found and always dotes over her when he see's her. You could say he's her unofficial godfather. Without him, I'm not sure if Celia would've been born as healthy as she was."

"I see."

* * *

"I have a target Jean," Rico spoke training her rifle on a Uzi-bearing guard poking his head out of a window. 

"Fire, when ready," Jean said to Rico. "All teams, at my mark."


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Madness engulfed the building. Screams and gunfire erupted in a horrid lullaby. Tucking the H&K MP5K into her belt behind her, Capricia bundled up Celia carrying her to the rug they slept on. Moving it with a swift pull, Capricia revealed a compartment. Normally, those like her would use such places to hide important documents and items to be found later. To Capricia, it was big enough to hide her most precious possession from stray bullets.

"No accidents and no mistakes," Celia muttered to herself. "If they kill you, let them do it while looking into your eyes."

Laying Celia within the compartment she cooed the baby a little before moving the rug to cover the compartment. Staying low, Capricia drew the MP5K in front of her. Pulling the slide back as she had done many times before, she checked the chamber before releasing it. Standing just inside of the entryway, Capricia took a glance around the corner before another round of gunfire made her take cover.

* * *

With Christiano between them, Franco and Ignazio fired round after round at anyone whoever attempted to pursue them. 

"Please, save yourselves," Christiano pleaded. "It's _me_ they want, not you."

"I've told you this before, Christiano," Franco said. "I won't let Pinocchio's death be for nothing."

"I also want Celia to meet her godfather," Ignazio added firing another volley with his AK-74.

Finally reaching the basement door, Franco pushed Christiano through before following him. The sound of a shotgun rang right behind him just as he entered the door. Franco looked back to see Ignazio's shoulder slide down against the wall.

'I can't feel my legs,' was the only thought Ignazio could muster.

"…Ignazio!" Christiano yelled turning back to the door.

"Go!!" Ignazio yelled before closing the door with his rifle. The repeated rounds of the Russian rifle vibrated against the walls.

Ignazio spent his magazine firing at the hallway entrance keeping the pursuers at bay. Ejecting his magazine, he reached for another one only to remember that he kept them in his back pockets. It was almost enough to make Ignazio laugh. He would have, had another shotgun round not torn through his left shoulder in that moment.

"Hillshire," one of the pursuers said. It made Ignazio's heart sink to see a girl walking toward him.

"That's a nice suit," Ignazio muttered through gritted teeth.

"Where is he?" the other pursuer asked.

"He's in there, Hillshire," Ignazio answered hooking a thumb to the door beside him.

Taking a long look at the door, Hillshire then looked back at Ignazio; Ignazio was smiling at Hillshire. Continuing down the hallway, Hillshire waved at Triela. Triela put her foot on Ignazio's good shoulder cocking her shotgun.

"Capricia…"Ignazio managed to mutter before Triela fired a slug into his chest.

* * *

Remaining inside the entryway, Capricia's mind was filled with the many horrible things that could be done to her. 

'With mercy; they'll kill me quick,' Capricia thought. She shook her head to clear these thoughts and focus. The gunfire was getting closer.

Taking peeks around the corner, she squatted low. Most squads' fire straight ahead, Ignazio once told her. Squatting would make her a more difficult target. Forcing herself to slow her breath, Capricia closed her eyes. Following Ignazio's tutelage, closing her eyes would allow her to hear soft footsteps. Soon she heard a set coming up the stairwell. Taking another peek around the corner, she saw a small boy stumbling on the last step.

The boy held what looked to be a .22 caliber pistol. Spattered in blood, he stared around him in a daze. Standing up, tears fell from his eyes without a sob. Capricia stuck her head out and waved to the boy. Seeing this he ran toward her. When the boy arrived beside a window, the glass erupted sending him into the wall and onto the floor with a sickening thud. Capricia peeked around the corner to see the boy's body laying in a crumpled mess. Blood gushed out of what remained of his head making the broken glass glitter crimson.

Taking cover once more, Capricia bit on her fingers in an attempt to keep from screaming.

'He was only ten years old,' Capricia thought as her teeth pierced skin.

Wanting to scream, cry out, and shed a few tears for the lost child; Capricia bit down harder. When slow, deliberate steps could be heard coming up the stairs; she didn't know whether to cry or scream. A soft whine from the rug steeled her resolve. Bringing her MP5K up to eye level, she took a deep breath. The steps came louder before the crackle of broken glass was heard.

Capricia held her breath before leaning to the doorway and sending a volley. Taking cover again, Capricia winced as return fire ricocheted off of the door jam. Waiting a second, she took another peek before returning to her cover. Whoever fired those shots took cover in the stairwell.

'This is too limiting,' Capricia thought. 'I need to get to the other side.'

Taking big breaths, she held the last one as she rolled to the other side firing at the stairwell. The better vantage point helped. She could see more of the stairwell than from her previous one. Firing a three-round burst at the stairwell, Capricia took cover once again while leaning back to see who was firing at her. After eying a tuft of hair, she leaned out preparing to fire again. When a little auburn-haired schoolgirl stepped out of the stairwell, she hesitated. Capricia recovered quickly, but Henrietta was quicker. By the time Capricia raised her MP5K; Henrietta had already placed one round in her chest and two in her belly.

Falling behind the doorway, Capricia dragged herself in further as the little schoolgirl flashed the window three times with a small light. Looking at her chest, she could barely make a sound.

'There's so much blood,' Capricia thought. 'It's getting harder to breath. They're going to kill us all anyway. Celia, I want to see Celia. I want to hear my Celia laugh one more time.'

Rolling on her side, Capricia dragged herself toward the rug. Tugging on the rug once, she smiled as the 9mm round tore through her skull.

* * *

Henrietta stood over the remains of the young woman and fired another shot before looking around. Eying the rug, she saw the corner of a small compartment. Kicking the young woman out of the way, she swiftly turned the rug over. Hearing something, Henrietta kneeled down to reach inside. Feeling around, she could feel something soft and warm. Henrietta jumped in shock as something softer and warmer grabbed her fingers. Sitting on the floor, Henrietta breathed hard trying to control her reaction. 

Picking up her P239, she pulled out her light and aimed both at the compartment. Inching her way back, she first placed the barrel against the item within the compartment before slowly shining her light upon it. A baby lay inside sucking on her left hand as five chubby digits tried to wrap around her pistol.

Henrietta's instincts screamed for her to pull the trigger, but she couldn't. Her mind kept going back to something she asked José some time ago.

Taking the bundle from her the compartment, Henrietta wrapped her arms around the baby. Somehow; feeling the baby's warmth against her own, made her feel at ease.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Creeping around the main entrance, Henrietta waited for her opportunity. The baby made soft whines which Henrietta soothed her soon enough, but not without concern that they were heard. Taking a quick scan around her, Henrietta attention returned to the van. It had been the transport for Triela, Rico, and the equipment for their mission.

Looking around a corner, Henrietta waited for a clear path to the van. When the Section One attendee was called away, an opportunity presented itself. Running as fast as her feet would carry her, she arrived within a matter of seconds.

Opening the rear, Henrietta rummaged through the equipment and ammunition. Finding a duffel bag sitting in the corner, Henrietta pulled it close to her. Opening it, Henrietta found it contained Triela's shells, twelve-gauge slugs as a matter of fact. Rearranging the boxes to make a hollow compartment in the center, Henrietta placed the sleeping baby within. Smiling, she rubbed the baby's chin before partially closing the bag and placed it in a small corner. Looking at her new treasure with longing, Henrietta wondered if she could really pull this off.

"Henrietta?" a voice called from behind shocking Henrietta. Barely holding a squeal, she turned around slowly.

"H…hi José," Henrietta answered as meekly as possible.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing back here?"

"I…I was…looking for my P-90. It wasn't where I left it. I thought someone might've picked it up and brought it here."

"Oh, that was my fault, sorry."

"Sorry? Why are you sorry José?"

"After Hillshire called the _all-clear_, I went back and picked it up. I didn't mean to worry you."

José unlatched the Sig Sauer automatic from a belt hook and presented it to Henrietta.

"Oh José; thank you," Henrietta answered, hugging her P-90 close. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd have lost it."

José's eyes rolled to the side as thoughts and possibilities of his beloved wards reactions criss-crossed through his mind.

"Don't worry about it. C'mon, we have to go. Section One is going to clean up from here on."

"Okay," Henrietta said following obediently behind José.

Hearing a soft coo, Henrietta eyes shot back to the van remembering the treasure held within.

"José, is it okay for me to go back with Triela and Rico?"

"I don't see why not, but what for?" José furrowed his brow at this sudden request.

"Rico said she had a song to teach me."

"Can't it wait till we get back to the Agency?"

"Oh, plea—se José," Henrietta stared up at him with wide eyes.

Taken aback by this sudden mood, José fought resurfacing memories. Unable to withstand Henrietta's pleading and watery eyes; the handler gave in.

"Okay 'etta, you can go with them."

"Oh, thank you José."

"But you have to be ready by noon tomorrow."

"Why?"

"We're going for pastries and tea; for a job well done."

"Oh, thank you José and could you put my P-90 in my case?" Henrietta said handing the gun back to him.

"Sure," José said taking the SMG from Henrietta. "You two have fun and don't you two give Jean a hard time."

"We won't; José," Henrietta answered with a wave.

* * *

Jean and Hillshire calmly walked out a few minutes after José left. Henrietta waited patiently by the rear of the van. When the Section One aide returned, Henrietta simply told him that Jean had left her in charge of the van. Shrugging, he returned to his supervisor. 

"Where's José?" Jean asked tersely.

"He left already."

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to ride with Triela and Rico."

Jean crossed his arms and tapped his feet for a minute. He would've liked to leave Henrietta here to teach José a lesson in controlling the wishes of his ward, but the reprimand that would've come from Director Lorenzo suppressed that urge.

"Get in," Jean said walking toward the passenger door.

"YAY!" Henrietta squealed.

"You're going back with us?" Rico asked sliding the case holding her Dragunov SVD into the back.

"Uh huh," Henrietta smiled.

"Why?" Triela said tossing her M1897 into the back where it clattered against the cases and bags.

Time slowed to an utter standstill for Henrietta as the Winchester shotgun took ages to settle. When it finally stopped clattering, Henrietta couldn't hear a sound from the bag on the corner. Standing with her eyes wide and mouth agape, Henrietta wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad.

"Henrietta?" Triela asked.

"Yes?" Henrietta answered, slowly coming out of her daze.

"Why did you want to ride with me and Rico?"

"So…so I can spend time with you."

Triela raised an eyebrow at Henrietta's childish comment. It wasn't uncommon for José to give in to Henrietta's whims, but to be without him entirely? Concern spread across Triela's complexion as recollections of Elsa di Sica entered her mind.

"My ladies, your chariot awaits," Hillshire bowed in a most formal manner.

Triela shrugged off the gesture while Henrietta and Rico giggled. Closing the side door, a wide grin spread across Hillshire's face.

'This is going to be good,' Hillshire thought. 'You poor man; I am thoroughly going to enjoy this Jean.'

* * *

The ride back was fairly calm as the girls and their handlers did little talking. Despite smiling during the entire trip, Triela noticed that Henrietta's breathing was irregular. In fact, it appeared that she had started to sweat. 

'She's hiding something,' Triela thought.

No sooner had that thought poured into Triela's mind, a soft whine came from the back. Barely audible, the handlers heard it not; but Triela and Rico slowly glanced toward the back compartment.

"I…I'm hungry," Henrietta piped suddenly. "Maybe we can wake Claes when we get back. What do you think Triela?"

"Maybe," Triela answered in a steady tone. "She's probably awake reading her porn anyway."

Coming upon a red traffic light, Hillshire slowed to a stop. As he waited for the light to change, Hillshire began to hum a familiar tune. Henrietta eyes lit up as she recalled this particular tune.

"Rico, let's sing!" Henrietta squealed in delight.

"Okay!" Rico replied.

Recognizing the tune Hillshire was humming Triela muttered, "Oh, god."

"_Moskau, __Fremd und geheimnisvol_…" Henrietta and Rico began.

"Hillshire…" Jean said suddenly at a loss for words.

Hillshire smiled and continued to hum along with Rico and Henrietta's vocals, bobbing his head in tune with certain parts. Leaning forward, Triela moved very close to Hillshire's ear.

"I hate you Hillshire," Triela whispered. "I really, really hate you."

Hillshire's smile only widened as he muttered, "Two for one."

"_Kosaken hey hey hey hebt die Gläser_..." Rico and Henrietta continued as the drive back to the Agency continued.

Hillshire purposely kept below the speed limit for the entire drive.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Pulling into the mansion that was SWA headquarters, the level of Henrietta and Rico's voices had risen so that they were heard by the guards. Hillshire displayed his identification while still keeping in tune with the girls. The guard stood dumbfounded as Hillshire bobbed his head back and forth.

"Will you please hurry?!" Jean asked the guard, his voice barely audible over the girls.

With a quick nod, the guard reached over and pushed the button opening the steel gate post.

Still awestruck, the guard's eyes followed the van. After it turned a corner, he shook his head just before closing the gate.

**

* * *

**

"Okay girls, big finish!" Hillshire instructed pulling the van ever slower to barely maintain the 10-kmh speed limit. For the final chorus, Hillshire joined in.

_'Moskau, Moskau!_

_Vodka trinkt man pur und Kalt_

_Das macht hundert Jahre alt_

_Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! Hey!  
Moskau, Moskau!_

_Väterchen dein Glas ist leer  
Doch im Keller ist noch mehr!_

_Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Hey!'_

With the last 'hey' the van came to a stop at the garage. Jean nearly leaped out of the van, stomping his way to the driver's side. Triela nearly climbed over 'Etta and Rico to open the side door. For a moment she considered climbing over the seat and exiting through the back. After sharing a fit of laughter with Henrietta and Rico, Hillshire finally opened the driver's side door and jumped down. There, he was confronted by Jean's scowl.

"Is something the matter; sir," Hillshire asked desperate not to giggle.

"Are you aware that I can have you disciplined for insubordination?" Jean said, his gaze and demeanor unwavering.

"What insubordination would that be?"

"Don't tell me that little…_stunt_ wasn't orchestrated."

"It wasn't, although I must admit, I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"…Opportunity?"

Letting a smile crease the corner of his mouth, Hillshire turned his back to Jean.

"You can report me if you want, but you should remember that Triela and Henrietta were there too. You never did give an order to stop singing, not even to little Rico. Some would say that you are becoming lenient with your cyborg, perhaps even…_careless_."

Taken aback by his words, Jean turned and marched his way to the elevator. Stepping lightly to the rear of the van, Hillshire's face erupted in a full grin.

"Hurry up Hillshire! Triela shouted. "I haven't got all day."

"And what might be so important, my sweet?" Hillshire answered.

Frowning at the little pet name, Triela answered, "The ass-load of homework you gave me, that's what."

"Ah, but, Triela if I recall; it was you who volunteered to be my instructional aide. It's only fitting you stay ahead of the rest of the class."

"I didn't volunteer; you _volunteered me_ after Claes wouldn't do it."

"Nevertheless, you are still the instructional aide."

Grumbling, Triela crossed her arms as Hillshire opened the rear.

"I'll take this one," Henrietta squealed hopping into the compartment and grabbing the duffel bag.

"But Henrietta…" Triela motioned.

Before Triela could stop her, Henrietta had already sprinted up the stairs.

"…that's mine."

* * *

Sprinting around everybody she encountered, Henrietta hugged the duffel bag close to her. The night gave her refuge from would-be prying eyes. Nevertheless, she sprinted up the stairwells and down the hallways. Not until she arrived at her room did Henrietta allow herself a breath. Quickly walking in to her room, she placed the bag down carefully. Opening it, she was greeted by the sight of the child sucking on the plastic edge of a shotgun shell. Smiling, Henrietta lifted the baby out of the bag and cuddled her for a minute. It took one look at the bag to remember that Triela and Rico would be expecting to see her at the armory.

Looking around, Henrietta walked over to her dresser and shifted a few things around. Doing so, she created a cradle much like the one with the duffel bag, but with more bedding. With a yawn, the baby moved about finding a comfortable spot. Closing the drawer slowly, she left it open just a bit. Taking a moment to smile, Henrietta then grabbed the duffel bag and sprinted out of her door.

* * *

Walking out of the armory, Triela, Rico, and Henrietta exchanged small talk. Henrietta had arrived just before Triela, Hillshire, and Rico with a few other Agency attendants. Many hands made short work as the girls and attendants stored the ammunition and weapons in their proper places. The girls exchanged small talk leaving Hillshire and the attendants to lock up.

"Why did you two have to sing that song?" Triela asked, her arms crossed in silent frustration.

"Because it's fun," Henrietta and Rico chimed together.

"But twelve times? Did you have to repeat the same song? Doesn't this _Dingis Can _have any other songs?"

"Dschingis Kahn," Henrietta and Rico chimed again.

"They do have other songs," Henrietta added.

"We could sing "_The Rockin Son_" or "_Dschingis Kahn_"," Rico said lending a hand.

"Is the tune about the same?"

"Uh-huh," Henrietta and Rico answered again in unison.

"I…think I'll pass. I swear, you two just keep getting more and more alike. It's scary."

Arriving at the dormitory wing, Triela turned to Henrietta.

"Do you still want to see about Auntie Claes and her pastries?" Triela smiled.

"No; not tonight," Henrietta answered. "I'm really tired; I think I'll just go to sleep."

"Yeah, I feel tired too."

Rico let out a great, big yawn to concur.

"Okay then, see you tomorrow sweetie."

Triela smiled and waved at Henrietta and Rico before retiring to her room. As soon as Henrietta her the knob click in succession, she turned to Rico.

"Rico, I have a se--cret."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh, a big one; promise me you won't tell anybody and I'll show you."

"Okay," Rico smiled haphazardly.

She was really hoping to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Claes lightly stepped to the door responding to the relentless knocking. Without notice, she held a rather large book on organic fertilizer at her side. The steady rhythm associated with Triela's light snoring made her smirk, if only slightly. Having been long since accustomed, Claes was at perfect peace a few moments ago. The sudden repetitive knocking destroyed that with haste. Opening the door, Triela moaned in a swift shuffle as a thin stream of life invaded the room's dark tranquility.

Peeking out of the thin opening, Claes saw Rico and uttered a singular phrase, "What?"

"The…there's something wrong with Henrietta."

**

* * *

**

_Earlier that night_

"Hen…Henrietta," Rico stuttered. Shocked by the sight before her, she didn't know whether to smile or frown. "'Etta, what...is that your secret?"

"A baby; silly," 'Etta answered in her innocent manner. "Isn't she cute?"

"Y…yes, she is. Henrietta, what…what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take care of her and love her."

Suddenly the baby lying quietly in Henrietta's drawer stirred. Opening her eyes, she looked with silence upon the two faces looking down upon her. Within a hair's breath, the small bundle softly whined before wailing uncontrollably. Picking her up to coo her back to sleep, the baby wailed even more.

"Henrietta, someone's going to here her," Rico said in urgency.

"I know," Henrietta said as tears formed in her eyes. "It'll be okay. She just needs to go back to sleep."

Continuing to rock and coo the baby did nothing to sooth the child's screaming. Afraid and frustrated, Rico went for the door.

"Rico," Henrietta called, "where are you going?"

"To get Claes," Rico answered.

"No; nobody can know," Henrietta cried as her tears turned into sobs. "It's a secret remember? You promised."

"I know, 'Etta; but if she keeps crying, it won't be a secret anymore."

With the baby in her arms wailing as it was; there was no way Henrietta could stop her. Clutching the baby tight, Henrietta continued to sob.

**

* * *

**

"So, explain this to me again?" Claes asked as she walked swiftly.

Having trouble keeping up, Rico explained what she knew, "Henrietta found a baby, at the location. She decided to keep it and brought it here."

"Does she have any idea of child care?"

"I don't think so."

"Does she at least care for the dolls José gives her?"

"I think she brushes their hair once in a while."

"Great."

Pushing the door open; Claes gazes upon Henrietta. On her knees, Henrietta continues in vain to sooth the baby. After a brief minute, Claes walks toward Henrietta holding out her arms.

"Give the baby to me," Claes commands.

"No, I won't give her up."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

"No!" Henrietta squeals turning away from Claes.

"Henrietta; now!!" Claes raises her voice.

For that brief moment Claes drowns out the baby reaching Henrietta at last. Reluctantly, Henrietta hands over the small bundle to Claes.

"Here," Claes begins, "this is how you hold a baby. Elevate your elbow so that your wrist supports her head and neck. Loop your other arm under her legs so that you cup her back. Do you see?"

"Uh-huh," Henrietta answered.

"You make a cradle with your arms doing this."

The baby's screams subsided to a small whine and her eyes became droopy. At that moment Triela walked in, awakened by the small stream of light invading her room.

"What's going ahh…," Triela nearly screamed. "That…that's a baby!!"

"Triela!" Claes called her attention. "Sit down and shut up."

As if by an unseen force, Triela plopped down into the chair beside the door.

"Henrietta," Claes said with a stern look. "I want to know why you thought to bring a ba…"

The baby's soft nuzzling at Claes's chest cut off the potential lecture. Walking back, the child's search for sustenance forced Claes to sit down.

"Claes?" Rico asked in concern.

"I'm fine, but this baby is…very hungry."

"Should I get her some cake?" Rico asked in her innocence.

"No, babies don't eat cake. Triela, go to the cafeteria and warm some milk, but not to boiling. If you can find some hot cereal, put a couple of pinches of that in as well."

"Cereal?" Henrietta asked.

"She needs nourishment, but we don't have any formula. And I doubt even Triela's…development can yield any milk."

"Hey," Triela called from the door.

"I don't see you leaving," Claes answered.

"Fine, I'm going."

"Rico," Claes called.

"Uh-huh."

"I need for you to sneak into Dr. Bianci's lab. I know he keeps test animals in there. Find something that will pass for a baby bottle. If you can't find anything, find me a sterile eye dropper."

"Okay."

With Rico and Triela off on their own private missions, Henrietta and Claes were left alone with the softly whining infant.

"Claes, I…" Henrietta stammered before being cut off.

"Don't speak about it. It doesn't matter now."

"Doesn't…matter?"

"Whatever your explanation, it doesn't change the fact that a six month old child is here and in need of care."

"Six months?"

"If her weight and size is any indicator, but she does look a bit chubby so I could be off a month or two."

"Oh, where did you learn so much about babies?"

"From a man named Dr. Spock."

"From _Star Trek_," Henrietta pipes up. "José talks about him all the time. Spock is his favorite character."

"No, no. Not that Spock."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

Sitting in silence, Claes let the baby suckle on her finger. A small smile creased her lip at the baby's innocent action. A half-hour later Rico sprinted up to the door taking a moment to catch her breath.

"I got the eye dropper like you asked," Rico started.

"Good, it's not a bottle, but it'll do. Henrietta, speaking of José, we're going to need things for her."

"What kinds of things?"

"Baby things, I'll write you a list."

"But I can't tell even José about her. They'll take her away."

"You're not going to tell him. You're going to say that Triela's letting you take care of one of her bears like you would a baby."

"I can't lie to José!"

"You're not going to lie. Doesn't she feel like a teddy bear?"

"Well yes, but…"

"Isn't she warm and cuddly like a teddy bear?"

"Well, yes…"

"So, taking care of her will be just like taking care of a teddy bear."

"Oh, okay. That reminds me, I'm going to brunch with José in the morning."

"Perfect, ask him then."

"Okay."

"Henrietta, get some sleep. I'll wake you when it's time. Rico, do me a favor and check on Triela."

"Okay," Rico replied.

As Henrietta snuggled into her covers and drifted off to sleep, Claes took a quick glance shaking her head.

"What _are_ we going to do with you 'Etta?"

**

* * *

**

'This sucks,' Triela thought to herself. 'I've been stirring for twenty minutes and this still isn't warm. Why the hell do I have to do this anyway? Why is there a baby here in the first place? Speaking of which, who the hell made Claes headmistress anyway?'

"Triela," Rico called from behind shocking Triela.

"Yes…Rico?" Triela answered.

"Claes, sent me to check on you."

"Oh she did, did she?"

"Yeah, um…Triela?"

"What…?"

"Why don't you have the heat on?"

Looking under the pot, Triela then gazed down upon Rico granting the little blonde a nervous air.

"Rico…" Triela began.

"Y…yes Triela?"

"Tell no one what you saw here, that's an order."

"Oh, okay. Roger."


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

"Okay Henrietta, do you remember what to say?" Claes said as he helped dress the little doe-eyed brunette.

"Y…yes; I do," Henrietta nervously replied.

"Repeat it for me please?"

"I told Triela about wanting a baby and she said I could take care of one of her bears."

"Yes; and…"

"And she said I could take care of it _like_ a baby, but I had to be…um…"

"Better…"

"Oh, better equipped than I am now."

"Very good, Henrietta; I don't think even Bianchi will be able to resist that plea."

"R…really?"

"Yes, really."

"Are you sure this isn't lying to José?"

"Absolutely, this is what you'd call…_beating around the truth_."

"_I_ still consider it _lying_," Triela mumbled under her breath.

"Something wrong, Triela?" Claes asked after hearing Triela's whisper.

"Oh no, I'm just peachy. Especially now that _I'm_ holding this little bundle of…whatever wearing _my_ good panties; using _my_ good panty liners and _my_ good bobby pins. Meanwhile, _it_ happens to keep grabbing at my pigtails while my period is due any day now."

"Well it was either that or we use your shirts for a makeshift diaper."

"Shut it!"

Turning away, Claes looked calmly at Henrietta putting the child's nervousness at ease.

"You'll be fine, Henrietta. Trust me, as soon as we get what we need, taking care of this baby will be a lot easier."

"Okay," Henrietta smiled looking over at the baby just as the little bundle of laughter made another grab for Triela's pigtails.

"Get going, 'Etta. You'll be late."

"Okay; and…thank you Claes."

With a wave and a smile Henrietta bounded out of the room with her arms outstretched, gleefully off to a date with her beloved José. Closing the door behind Henrietta, Claes looked over at Triela with a stern look on her face.

"Could you possibly be any louder?" Claes asked folding her arms.

"Shut it and take this thing will you?"

Picking up the baby, she almost immediately leaned her little head against Claes' chest and fingertip Claes provided. After a minute of watching this, Triela got up and went to the bathroom to wash baby spit from her shoulder.

"Christ in a go-cart, Triela. Now I know why Liora ran away."

"Shut up, that was _not_ my fault! I loved that cat!"

"I highly doubt that."

"She listened and didn't talk back for one thing!"

Tilting her head to one side, Claes acknowledged the comment as an absolute. Softly rocking the baby, Claes sat down and allowed the child to rest. Brushing her cheek with a thumb, Claes smiled at the sweet treasure in her arms.

"You know," Claes spoke softly, "we really should decide on a name for you."

* * *

"Henrietta," José said uneasily to his ward's request. "I don't know, even pretending to have a baby is a _big_ responsibility."

"But, Jo--sé;" Henrietta pleaded, "You won't give me a baby of my o--wn."

Nearly spitting up his espresso, José took great care in looking around hoping to the heavens above that nobody heard that last comment.

"Well, how about this 'Etta. I'll talk with Dr. Bianchi about this and…"

"No! I want this to be _my_ baby José. Claes even said she'll help me. Plea--se…"

With tears welling in her eyes, José begrudgingly caved in to his ward's demands.

"Very well, 'Etta; after we finish here we'll head to the supermarket to get what we need. Is that okay?"

"Uh-huh," Henrietta nodded with adoring approval.

Calling the waiter over, José ordered another double espresso with a shot of cognac. This was going to be one trying day and one that would stir up some painful memories.

'A bear; not a doll,' José kept telling himself. 'She wants to take care of a bear, and not a doll. Not like…like…'

With the aid of the cognac, José held back his tears. While the past was simply that to the Croce brothers, it had a habit of turning up in the least opportune moments.

Walking down the street, Henrietta latched on to José's arm and refused to let go. Looking down, he saw the blissful joy in her eyes as they approached the supermarket. Pulling out the list Claes gave her, Henrietta handed it to José.

"Claes said we needed to get all this stuff," Henrietta stated.

"All of this?"

"Uh-huh," Henrietta nodded with jubilance.

"Spare no expense I see."

"Right."

Smiling down at Henrietta, José couldn't help but feel a little giddy; especially as Henrietta met his smile with adoration. Perhaps this trip down memory lane wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Back at the Agency, Triela engaged Claes in a subtle argument over a name for the baby.

"How about Dietricha?" Triela asked.

"No," Claes fired back.

"Nadja?"

"…Maybe."

"Otilla?"

"Sounds like Atilla?"

"Zelda?"

"Isn't that one of your video games?"

"Malasintha?"

"Does that name even have a short version?"

"…We can call her _Mala_?"

"Bad in Spanish, so no."

"How is it bad?"

"It _means_ bad, Triela."

"Oh, okay. Wait, I got. The perfect name; Ute."

"What?! No!"

"Okay then, smarty Claes; let's hear your input."

"I have an idea, but I want Rico and 'Etta here when I mention it."


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Henrietta's infamous line from the last chapter was not an instrument of Claes' design, but rather an impulse of Henrietta herself. In other words, it was all 'Etta.**_

**VI**

"Oh, Claes," Henrietta said with misty eyes. "That's so pretty."

"It really matches her too," Rico chided in.

"I still say we should've named her Ute," Triela mentioned through a muffled voice.

"Triela, stop it," Claes commanded as Triela narrowed her eyes at her spectacle clad roommate. "Her name is Piccolletta and that is that."

"C…can I hold her?" Angelica squeaked. New to the secret, Claes thought that it better to invite Angelica into the circle instead of her finding out in a roundabout way and thus possibly telling Marco.

"Of course; Angie," Claes answered. "Do you know how?"

"Can you show me?"

"Here, make a cradle with your arms…"

"…Okay."

"And you support her head like this."

"…Like this?"

"Yes…there, now you have it."

"She's really warm isn't she?" Henrietta asked as she tickled Piccoletta's cheeks.

"Can you hold her for a while, Angie?" Claes asked as she took a seat at her table.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, girls this is important. Although Piccolletta's name fits her well, there is a purpose behind it."

"A…purpose?" Henrietta asked.

"Yes, Henrietta; and a good one too. The handlers can't know about this baby so when we refer to her, we must call her _little_ 'Etta instead of her full name."

"Why _little_ 'Etta?" Angie asked as she unconsciously rocked Piccolletta.

"If we call her _little_ 'Etta, then no one is the wiser. The handlers included. As for you Henrietta, you'll still be plain ol' 'Etta."

"Um, okay, I get it, I think."

"By the way," Claes began, "Henrietta, did you thank José for the baby things?"

"Uh-huh," Henrietta answered, "just like you told me."

"Good, make sure to thank him again the next time you see him."

"Okay; listen up girls," Claes commanded. "It's getting late and dinner will soon be served in the cafeteria. Also, it's time for Piccolletta to sleep as well."

The last comment resolved audible disapproval from all of the girls except Triela who had held a smirk of relief across her face.

"No, no; we have to keep up appearances if this is going to work. Is that understood?"

Reluctantly, they all agreed and slowly began to shuffle out of Claes and Triela's room. After Claes had closed and locked the door, Triela slid out from her bunk and stood over Claes.

"Now, what was that all about, Miss Claes?" Triela asked.

"What was _what_ all about?" Claes answered.

"Dinner isn't for another hour, and the handlers at the core don't request our presence _that_ much. Well, except for maybe José."

"For your information, it's difficult putting a baby to sleep when there's so many people cooing over her. At least that's what Dr. Spock recommends."

"Oh, so this is book-smart Claes trying to be mama-smart?"

Turing off the electric water pot, Claes efficiently made a bottle before putting Piccolletta in her new cradle. Waving the bottle of formula in front of her with a smile, Claes gave in to the babies grasping hands. There, the baby drank from her bottle as she held it. Backing away a couple of steps from the cradle, Claes whirled around to face Triela. Struck by Claes' expression, Triela took a step back herself.

"What the hell is your problem, Triela?"

"…_My_ problem? Do you _want_ to know what _my_ problem is Claes? This…this…thing; has been wearing _my_ clothes, pulling _my_ ponytails, taking up _my_ space, and taking over _my_ friends. Now tell me why I shouldn't have a problem!"

"Do you mind keeping it down? I'm trying to put that _thing_ to sleep after all."

"Oh, like I care! God, I swear, if I wasn't so mad at him I'd…I'd…"

In that moment tears began to well within Triela's eyes. Shifting her visage to one of anger to that of concern, Claes took a step closer to Triela.

"Triela; what wrong," Claes asked.

"It's nothing, just leave me alone!"

"What happened between you and Hillshire?"

"…Nothing…"

"Triela…" Claes mumbled with a bit of irritation in her voice. "What…_happened_?"

"Nothing happened…nothing has been happening…for a long time."

"What do you mean?"

"He…he doesn't look at me like he used to Claes. It's like…it's like I'm in his way. I'm not in his way; am I Claes?"

"Damn this conditioning," Claes spoke to herself.

"What?"

"Never mind, but it's not an uncommon thing Triela. José has been at least looking at Henrietta the same way for quite some time and if 'Etta wasn't so damned mind-numbingly blissful she would probably be like you."

"Why…why do they do this to us, Claes?"

"I don't know, maybe they know something that we don't and it's eating them up inside. Maybe we remind them of past loves they've lost, or just maybe they're all emotional wrecks to begin with."

"Heh, emo's," Triela chuckled. "I've seen some of the field handlers sporting the trademark 'doo."

"You're going to have to snag a camera."

"We can make a wall of shame."

With a slight chuckle, the two roommates shared a much belated hug and sat at the center table. Looking over at the cradle, Triela let out a long sigh.

"She really isn't so bad when she's sleeping," Triela said.

"From what I gather, that's the way it is everywhere." Claes answered.

"Someone's going to find out eventually though Claes."

"So long as it isn't Bianchi; I wouldn't call him a _mad_ scientist per say, but the term _disturbed_ comes close."

"Anything you want to share?"

"Nothing pleasant mind you; now, back on the baby."

"How are we going to keep her a secret? She's not like us, she's going to grow, and since she's _'Etta's baby_ I'm sure she's going to wander."

"I'm aware, but we'll climb that mountain when we come to it."

"Isn't it _cross that bridge_?"

"I like my saying better."

"Ah, I swear, how many times have we bent over backward for that girl?"

"Too many, but we can do this one more time. At this point, we're the only ones who can mess this up."

Practically throwing the door open, Henrietta rushed through. Nearly knocking over Claes, Henrietta clutched at the bespectacled girl and quickly drenched her dress.

"H…Henrietta?" Claes asked as she tried not to give Triela a cross look for her giggling. "W…why…what…"

"Claes, I think I did something bad!" Henrietta sobbed into Claes' dress.

"What did you do that was so bad Henrietta?"

Looking up, Claes was greeted by the pitiful look of Henrietta's swollen and tear-stricken face.

"I think I told José about the baby!"


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

"Claes," Henrietta cried as she sobbed into Claes's blouse. "I think I told José!"

Triela sat straight with her jaw wide open; her eyes drifting to the door as she expected an angry Director Lorenzo or worse, Vice-Director Milani to come raging through at any minute.

"Triela," Claes called as she attempted to sooth Henrietta. "Go and close the door, please."

Getting up, Triela moved herself behind the door before closing it, in the case that angry grown-ups might see her.

"Claes," Henrietta mumbled as sobs overtook her speech. "I'm so---rry."

"Now; 'Etta," Claes began, "tell me what you told him, word for word, exactly."

* * *

"Pi-co-let-ta; Pi-co-let-ta," Henrietta said accenting every skip down the hallway. She wore a smile that would make Bacchus, the God of Wine and Laughter, green with envy as Henrietta had never been more content. So filled with joy was she, that Henrietta didn't notice José before skipping right into him.

After a firm grunt, José grimaced at the sharp jab to his belly. Henrietta took three steps back in delicate concern for her handler.

"J… José; are…are you okay?" Henrietta muttered in a shaky voice.

"Nothing serious; 'Etta," José answered after catching his breath.

"I'm sorry, José. If…if you want, I can kiss it and make it better."

Pivoting her leg on a single toe, Henrietta began to blush a slight shade of crimson. José could not believe Henrietta would make such an offer and silently cursed the conditioning once more. At a loss for words, José quickly made a play to evade the awkward situation.

"…How is your bear?" José asked tactfully changing the subject.

"Oh, right; Claes told me to say _thank you_ for the things you bought. So, um, thank you."

"Well you and Claes are most welcome. By the way, what was that you were singing just now?"

"Oh, that's the baby's name; Picoletta," Henrietta said with sparkling glee.

"A baby now and a she at that; I see you're becoming quite the attached mother to that bear."

"She really is warm and cuddly like a bear too," Henrietta answered as she was caught in the moment of José's basking attention.

In that instant, despite José's warm smile, Henrietta felt a sense of dread consume her.

"Henrietta?" José asked in response to his ward's sudden silence. "Is something wrong?"

"Um…no; nothing's wrong," Henrietta stuttered as she began to step back slowly.

"Henrietta…"

"Um, I have to go José; bye," Henrietta hurried as she sprinted back down the hallway.

* * *

Still sobbing in Claes's arms, Henrietta finished her recollection.

"And…and then," Henrietta spoke between sobs, "I r…ran he---re. Claes, I'm so--- so---rry."

Running her fingers through Henrietta's hair as the little brunette continued to sob into her chest; Claes looked over to Triela. Soon the two began to mouth a silent, yet heated conversation.

"Triela," Claes mouthed, "Go to the hallway and see if someone's coming."

"What?!" Triela mouthed in return. "Why…?!"

"Just see if somebody is coming."

"Why can't you do it?"

"They're going to take Picoletta a---way aren't they?!" Henrietta wailed from within Claes's blouse as Claes continued to stroke her hair.

"_That_ is why," Claes mouthed as she pointed to Henrietta with her free hand.

"I don't want to, Triela mouthed with a smirk as she crossed her arms in defiance.

After that remark, Claes gave Triela such a look that it would have melted steel and shattered ice all at once. Try as she might, Triela stood her ground for all of thirty-eight seconds before her shoulders cringed and chills ran up her spine. Slowly standing up, Triela walked around the table and to their bedroom door while Claes's 'deadeye stare' followed her the entire way. Opening the door, Triela took a long, languid look down the hallway to her left before doing the same on her right.

"Do you see anything?" Claes asked.

"Nope," Triela answered, "nobody here, but us pigeons."

"Tri—e—la," Claes muttered through gritted teeth.

"Seriously, there's nobody down the hallway."

"See," Claes said as she lifted Henrietta's face cupping it in her hands. "José's not coming, so José doesn't know."

"O,,,okay," Henrietta said with a sniffle before embracing Claes again.

Looking over Henrietta, Claes spied Triela giving her a scornful look.

"Thank you," Claes mouthed.

Narrowing her eyes at Claes; Triela stated, "It's time for dinner."

Triela then abruptly turned away before marching out of the room.

"Come on," Claes said as she set Henrietta on her feet, "wash up in my bathroom and we'll walk to dinner together. I'm sure José will be waiting for you."

"Okay," Henrietta meekly piped with a smile to match.

Walking into the bathroom, Claes finally rested her head in her palm.

"Oh; Henrietta," Claes muttered. "What are we going to do with you?"

A moment later, Picoletta let out a soft whine prompting a long sigh from Claes as she stood up and stretched her arms out to her sides. Walking over to the basinet, Claes picked up the baby before holding her overhead.

"And what should we do with _you_?" Claes smiled as she softly rubbed her nose against Picoletta's much to the baby girl's delight.


End file.
